golden silence

"Let the world know, if there was ever love, mine was for you."

(Peter Winstanley)

     If there was a chronic trait that I am least proud to possess, it would be that I am the most non-confrontational miscreant I know.  I would always choose to hide behind my seemingly stoic demeanor and turgid silence, afraid of the following: 
(1) the individual I am speaking with will get offended or hurt if I spoke my feelings; 
(2) s/he didn't have time to sort out my feelings with me; 
or, worst of all, 
(3) s/he didn't care enough about me to listen.  
This is a complex I grew up with and never knew how to fix.  It doesn't help that people think I'm NOT softspoken and VERY intimidating.  
To get to the bottom of it all is quite another thing.
     I know that feigning pomposity isn't the way to go.  Good friends always tell me that I must defend myself and speak up.  Like some weeks ago, A asked me, "How will J & S know that you think of them when you don't show them they are thought of. . . . (4 dots mean it was one long monologue.) by giving them tokens or gifts?"  This is a legitimate question.  One that my pride was unprepared for.  
     My first thought:  Must one be showered with an endless array of material things for one to feel sufficiently loved?  I think not.  But the underlying answer was a lot harder to say.  Not only was it what she wanted to hear, but it wasn't something that I wanted to say-- that they were always in my thoughts and that I had always had the gifts but CHOSE to give them away.
     Two very painful memories stand out really.  And when I think of them I still can't help but fight back tears.
     Two days after Valentine's Day 2005, a Wednesday, I think... when I brought a gift to S to her school and was told by the school directress, "I think she doesn't want your gift, so just take it with you.  I don't think she wants anything from you."  I remember thinking, this was both a nun and school directress.  Where was her compassion and why was she stepping on my feelings without concern for the obvious pain her every word was causing me?  Wasn't it just a fortnight ago that S's teacher had said to me that she wished I would come visit her everyday?  I walked out of that office in tears (and I don't do crying!!!), gift in hand and an hour later given to a colleague's anonymous daughter.  Strike ONE.
     And a few months after, as if that Valentine incident wasn't enough...I found myself drowning in a similar pool when it was a day after April Fool's of the same year.  I remember playing the insolent fool on a Saturday.  I was on my way to another birthday party, J's this time... and was told at the gate that the guard were given specific instructions were that I wasn't allowed to enter.  I left the gift for him and drove away in tears.  Strike TWO.  
     After that I had to completely shut myself out from the lives of 2 VIPs in my life.  Not because I didn't care.  Far from it.  It's because I cared too much I didn't want to wait for my breaking point.  And the breaking point teaches you the most painful lessons.  But you take it like a man and you're broken to a million pieces, but you rise up, dust your feet and are a notch up in the game.  I'm sure nobody has any recollection of these things, but unfortunately since I bore the brunt of these painful strikes, I'm sad to say that I do.  I remember the date, the weather and the words.  LIfe does teach you a thing or 2, before these incidents I was very deft at hurting people with my words.  And only after did I keep a close guard over what I said and graduated to silence.  
     Did I tell A to put her in her place?  (It would be so liberating to finally tell her after 6 years...)  Did I even so much as mention that no one made it easy for me?  Did I whine about all the gifts that I ended up giving away to other people?  No.  I kept mum and just nodded.  I accepted what she insinuated.  Maybe one day I will tell J & S...but that's all in the past.  No use bearing grudges and no sense bringing it up.  A few more years when everyone is older and when we become thick as thieves then I will.  All in good time. 
     Someone told me today maybe I should have called A's attention to these two very painful incidents for her not to think that I simply didn't give a sh*t.  It transports me back to those two heart-breaking birthdays.  I don't know if it makes sense to anyone else but to me, it's opening a can of worms.  Those celebrations happened four months after a bad separation.  People are at their most inconsiderate when they are hurt, aren't they?  This is but human nature.  I know what it's like to be on the goalie end of the transaction...over and over again.  But to spit out ill feelings after more than half a decade ago would be unnecessary.  
      Besides, the grand happiness I feel upon seeing them today makes me feel that all the silence had been worth it:  They are mine as I am theirs.

      This is also why I say always choose silence.  Most people would view it as a sign of weakness.  I see it as humility borne out of thoughtful pride.

     I'm in the present now and have survived the past.  I don't want to gloat.  I want to move on.  And I am moving on.  With them.

the gratitude circle